


Doctor Fell

by JoAsakura



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 16:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5877685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoAsakura/pseuds/JoAsakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, you can't fix anything</p><p>Spoilers for "The Disappearing Act"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Fell

_I do not like thee, Doctor Fell._

It has been three weeks since he shook the cold from his bones and staggered out, blinking at an unfamiliar sky. Just slightly less than that since the old woman told him to come to Diamond City after he led them to the ruins of Sanctuary Hills, for them to settle in the hollow ribcage of his old life. She calls it the Sight and he doesn’t tell her that he *knows*, that he remembers too well when the Army shot his team full of drugs to “open up the mind”, and he tries not to wonder which of his old unit’s blood runs in her veins.

He prays that she doesn’t see how he tried to burn out his own eye to stop the visions. How he almost drank himself to death before Nora found him and got him help. He prays that if Shaun caught this… _disease_ from him.. that all he sees is his father is coming. That his father will do anything to save him.

 _The Reason why, I cannot tell_.

The old rhyme creeps up Archer’s spine and fixes him in place as Doc Crocker touches his face, running a rubber-clad thumb over the pallid splotch of old scar tissue spread out along his cheekbone. The clamour of the marketplace fell away , and for a moment, there was only the sickly scrape of the glove against his skin. He is wrong. Like so many other things in this foreign future. _Wrong_.

“Such exquisite bone structure.” The doctor coos and Archer is transfixed by his own horrified green eyes, reflected in the doctor’s goggles. “But you really should let me fix this. It’s a shame to see such a stain on such a pretty face.” A pause, and that same horrible hand pushes open the collar of his filthy blue vault suit, fingertips lingering against the plane of Archer’s chest. “You use too many stimpaks. You’ve built up a scar at the injection site. I can take care of that too.”

It’s only a second later, when Doctor Sun jams the horse-needle full of RadAway into his vein that Archer regains use of his vocal cords. “No thanks.” He croaks, letting Preston take his little pile of caps from nerveless fingers to pay the other physician. The Minuteman’s hand is warm against his for just a moment. A reassurance he’d already come to count on. “I’m alright with it. You can’t fix everything.”

“If you change your mind, come see me.” Crocker adds and Sun jabs a vitamin shot in his arm for good measure.

_But this I know, and know full well,_

It’s been three months since he first wandered into Diamond City, and he’s wearing a dead man’s clothes as he paws through a missing man’s belongings. 

“I appreciate the help.” Nick says, a pop of static squelching from his vocoder, a synth’s embarrassed cough. “You don’t haftahelp me with my backlog, y’know.” He adds, scrolling absently through the man’s terminal. “The fact that you helped me close the Eddie Winter case…” The words trail off and Archer watches him from the corner of his eye, the stained, rubbery grey of the synth’s face flexing in a very human expression of embarrassment.

“Nick, you are one of my best friends.” Archer straightens, plucking at the battered leather of Kellog’s jacket. “And you helped me find the man who took Shaun, so I’d say we’re even, and this is something friends do.”

“As soon as we figure out how ta find th’Institute, we’ll get yer boy back.” Nick looks up, yellow eyes glowing dull in the dim room.

“I know.” But Archer’s attention is already on the crumpled receipt on the floor. He likes this. He likes playing detective. Likes hearing Preston call him “General”. Likes feeling the power armour close against his skin and hearing the word “Knight” coming from the Brotherhood’s lips.

Three months and the Commonwealth is no longer wrong. He feels like he’s starting to belong, and sometimes, sometimes he almost forgets there was something he had to do.

But the receipt under his fingers is, like rubber against old, burnt flesh. He almost gags and hands it to Nick. “I think I know where he is.”

_I do not like thee, Doctor Fell._

He can hear the servos in Nick’s bare metal hand screeching as Crocker stabs a scalpel through it. There is so much blood in the basement and Archer’s lost track of what was seeping from Earl Sterling’s dismembered body and what was spurting from the gash in his arm.

“I never do anything wrong. It’s Earl’s fault for being such a terrible patient!” The man squeals like the broken servos as he flails the scalpel again. “You should have let me just finish cleaning up!” There’s a surge of hysterical strength as he pushes Nick away and pounces on Archer. “Then I can fix your face. I can fix your pretty face.” The razor edge glints too close and Archer can smell the jet and whiskey on his breath as they struggle.

The last word melts away, the doctor’s mouth shaping an “O” at the loud retort of the .44 (a dead man’s gun, like a dead man’s jacket and Archer wonders when his transformation became complete)

The scalpel falls away with a delicate chime on the stony floor and the rubber fingertips scrape across Archer’s cheek. “I couldn’t have made a mistake. I just wanted to fix him.” He whispers, falling back as the blood from his wound mixes with Earl’s and Archer’s. Doctor Sun is standing in the stairwell, helping Nick to his feet and his gasp is almost as loud as the gun.

“You can’t fix everything.” Archer pushes him away, and leans against the dirty wall with a pained breath. “Sometimes, you can’t fix anything at all.”


End file.
